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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259450">The Night We Met</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysanoodle/pseuds/Rhysanoodle'>Rhysanoodle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dark Fairytale, F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Temporary Amnesia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:33:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysanoodle/pseuds/Rhysanoodle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate ending for ACOMAF leads to devastating results and a severely different Prythian 100 years after the war. Azriel stumbles upon a mysterious female who, unbeknownst to him, is the believed-dead Elain Archeron, in a magically suspended slumber. This is the story of discovering her past and healing together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elain Archeron/Azriel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been over a century since the war. Things broke very badly in the throne room, resulting in Lucien snatching Elain but leaving a hole for the rest of the Night Court to escape in the process when he accidentally shredded the King’s wards.</p><p>News came to them only days later when a frantic Lucien Vanserra turned up broken and battered on the steps of the Court of Nightmares. He’d been caught winnowing over the borders and brought to face trial against the High Lord and Lady for his crimes.</p><p>But he came bearing morbid news as he informed them of the way Ianthe had turned on them immediately after their arrival. She’d spirited Elain away in the night, claiming to have disposed of her so that Lucien could focus on their mission—and the High Priestess herself.</p><p>Lucien himself had felt the bond between them wither into dust, and he had launched himself at the priestess … only to find that Tamlin took her side. Lucien has been out of his mind in the throne room—he had completely forgotten their mission. Something needed to be done to ensure that they focused on what was important—returning Feyre to Tamlin.</p><p>He winnowed as far as he could as fast as he could, running himself ragged until he turned up on their doorstep. And bargained with every damning secret he knew about Tamlin and Hybern for his life.</p><p>The war was devastating to Prythian. Everyone lost somebody dear to them, the Inner Circle being no exception. Feyre refuses to talk about what happened that day, but judging by the shockwave which shook the battlefield and the earth which remains scorched to this day in the clearing where Nesta and Cassian battled the king, one thing is clear—they went out together in a blaze of glory which wiped out the king and half of both armies.</p><p>The courts are still rebuilding, even after all this time. Populations decreased so dramatically, and the babes who survived back home are just now growing to maturity.</p><p>While the Night Court retained most of the Inner Circle, other courts weren’t so lucky. Helion and Kallias were caught in the blast, and Beron was overthrown by his own offspring not long after.</p><p>While Feyre’s powers from the other High Lords could bring her mate back, she had no power to raise those who had been obliterated into ash by her sister’s wave of death.</p><p>Now they are still rebuilding, with Rhys and Feyre at the helm of Prythian as the other courts build themselves back from the ground up. Lucien, Vivienne, and Eris are still struggling to maintain peace on their own with limited resources.</p><p>And now, after a century of silence, Tamlin is showing signs of raising a small army. It’s no surprise that he might wish to invade some of the tumultuous adjoining lands to spite those who have long spited him.</p><p>Azriel has been personally sent to keep an eye on the situation, and that’s when he finally notices it.</p><p>The preternatural way his shadows tense around him as he steps through the clearing. The tang of magic on his tongue. The crack in the glamour as he sees its shadow and discovers a cabin long hidden from prying eyes.</p><p>The phantom of a maiden within who is unresponsive to his attempts to awaken her. Until he loses all sense of reason and brushes his lips to her own.</p><p>“I knew you’d come for me.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, strained from disuse.</p><p>“Who are you?” The emaciated female strikes a chord within him, yet he can’t place it. He’s met so many in his centuries of existence though, it’s not surprising that she looks familiar. </p><p>“I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.”</p><p>And that’s all he gets before she collapses in exhaustion before him once more.</p><hr/><p>Silence was Azriel’s constant companion, and yet he had never felt its unnatural chill until now. He couldn’t very well leave this female here, and yet all there was to do within these four walls was build a fire and wait for her to stir again.</p><p>He toyed with the idea of bringing her back to Madja, but he still couldn’t get a read on her. And there was no way that he could bring more chaos into the lives of his family. At least without being certain she meant them no harm.</p><p>
  <i>I knew you’d come for me. I was hoping you could tell me.</i>
</p><p>The words grated him down to the very core as he contemplated <i>why</i> she seemed so certain that he would know her.</p><p>While the female may have been attractive before, she was a hollowed out husk now, as if whatever spell had been keeping her suspended did not care how she lived—just that her body technically survived somehow.</p><p>It was wicked magic, resulting in nearly translucent skin pasted onto far too visible bones, thin hair which was graying and brittle to the touch, and cloudy hazelnut eyes which were the only spark of recognition which flared within him.</p><p>But even those were practically nothing to go on.</p><p>The shadowsinger found his leg fidgeting—an impatience which he found profoundly irritating. He could not afford to be spending this time here, and yet … He felt like he owed it to this mysterious female to be there when she awoke to at least attempt to put the pieces together.</p><p>She clearly would not be able to fend for herself unless some very powerful magic took hold of her now that whatever curse she was under seemed to be lifted.</p><p>He sent a cursory shadow through the cabin, confirming what he had already known. This place was not meant to sustain life. There was nothing to eat and nothing even to heat it over, save the fire itself.</p><p>And so the Shadow of Night went hunting in Spring.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blinding pain numbed to a dull thudding in her head as the girl awoke. The fact that she had been sleeping for gods knew how long hadn’t saved her from quickly collapsing again earlier, and if the weights tugging on her limbs were any indication, she wasn’t long for consciousness now either.</p><p>She waited a minute. Two. Three. Once she was convinced that the dusty red of the glow penetrating her eyelids wasn’t going to fade to black, she managed to crack one eye open, the dilapidated skin crackling with crust and disuse.</p><p>Her other eye flew open as she heard a rustling, and a familiar face loomed over hers again.</p><p>The girl had no idea who this man might be, yet he was a familiar presence, one she recognized intimately from her dreams. They had seemed like such fantasies at the time, yet she had glimpsed the moment from earlier today—Or was it yesterday? Last week? Who knew how much time had passed in her unconscious state—numerous times.</p><p>In fact, it had become the primary dream lately. She had seen others as well—she liked to consider herself their friends, though the girl was always unable to interact with the others in her dreams, as if glimpsing them through a veil—but none had intrigued her like this man with wings who moved like a shadow, drifting through her dreamscape.</p><p>Something instinctual within her screamed that she should fear this man and his preternatural powers, yet the girl was drawn to him. At the very least, he had saved her—and with a kiss no less—from the eons of neverending somnolence.</p><p>And now he was gazing upon her, questions swimming in those golden eyes glowing in the dim firelight, as if he was trying to read her, to determine if she was a threat.</p><p>With a groan, she began to raise herself onto her elbows, causing the man to back up a step, as he asked, “You really don’t know who you are?” skepticism laid thick in his midnight voice.</p><p>“Why would I lie?” she croaked as she cocked her head, cursing herself at the crack in her neck evidence of remaining unmoving for far longer than a body should. Her elbows almost gave out at the jolt of pain that coursed through her, and fast as a cat, a pair of calloused hands had cupped her head and steadied one of her arms.</p><p>“Easy. You’re not going to be able to move very well for a while yet if that atrophy is any indicator. It’s a miracle you’re still alive in this state. Whoever … Whoever did this to you was cruel when they weaved the spell. It’s clear you were to be kept alive for some purpose, but they did little to preserve your wellbeing.”</p><p>“Is that why—”</p><p>“Yes, it’s likely why your memory has been disrupted. Perhaps in due time, you’ll be able to regain that, but a lot of damage seems to have been done. I’ve never seen anything quite like—like you,” he interrupted, somehow having read her mind. “Are you hungry?”</p><p>The girl moved her free hand to her stomach, noticeably empty, yet other than the pain of her overall body, she couldn’t say that she did. “No,” she murmured feebly, feeling like that wasn’t the correct response, she would’ve killed for some water, though. “Thirsty.”</p><p>The man lit up, eyes darting around the cabin, likely to wherever his stores of fresh water were located, yet he hesitated. “Can you sit up on your own?”</p><p>As pathetic as it sounded, the girl thought it unlikely, considering the fact that she’d barely managed to keep herself propped on her elbows. “Don’t think so,” she grimaced, as he began gently settling her back onto … onto a surface she hadn’t contemplated before, yet it was solid beneath her. She faintly remembered seeing her emaciated form lying on it in her dreams, yet she’d always gotten so wrapped up in the man before her that it had quickly faded to the back of her mind.</p><p>“Right. You’re on the table in the middle of the room. Rather dramatic if you ask me. There’s a perfectly good bed in the corner. I’ll go prop some pillows up for you.” She heard a bit of shuffling, but before she knew it, he was leaning over her once again. “Do you mind?”</p><p>A harsh, choked laugh escaped her. “I don’t think I have a choice.”</p><p>The man only shrugged before scooping her effortlessly into his arms. As he turned to walk her to the solitary bed in the corner of the room, she caught a quick glance of her prison. It didn’t look like a prison at all, which irked her to no end. Somebody had clearly dumped her in their vacation home. There was no other way to describe this lush, comfortably-appointed cabin. There even seemed to be some sort of domestic magic as there was not a speck of dust to be found.</p><p>She found only two doors, one large which must lead outside, and the other smaller and more decorative. There must be another room back there.</p><p>Something hollow rang through her as she was gently laid against the cushions at the headboard, even though the plush mattress beneath her was an infinite improvement over her previous situation.</p><p>“Should we … not get out of here?” she asked warily. “What if they come back?”</p><p>“I don’t get the sense that anyone even remembers this cabin exists,” was the man’s quick retort. She didn’t miss the shifting of the shadows about his ears as he added, “It’s been abandoned for at least a century, and it was veiled from discovery. Seems like a safe enough place to build up a bit of strength while you try to sort yourself out.”</p><p>“Is there nowhere else?”</p><p>“Nowhere that’s shrouded enough from prying eyes for you to recover in peace. At least not that I know of.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“I have powers—powers which will alert me if anyone approaches this place and give us enough time to escape if need be.’’ The ghostly, umbral blanket surrounding him was reduced by half as a breeze rushed through the cabin towards the front door. “But as I said, I find that scenario highly unlikely. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.”</p><p>She saw the corner of his lips twitch as he held up a waterskin for her. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he actually found her concern comical. Nothing about this was comical. Somebody wanted her dead or so close to it that they had bewitched her. Probably one of the Fae, who stole their children in the night.</p><p>Wait, that must be a clue about her life. Whoever she had been was terrified of them, all but the one standing in front of her now.</p><p>She gladly accepted the waterskin, letting the smooth liquid relieve her throat momentarily, as he fed her a few tentative sips.</p><p>“How did I get into the Fae lands?” she asked quietly, as the waterskin lowered into his lap.</p><p>“I assume you mean Prythian,” he informed her. “That’s what these lands are called, yet you must’ve been born here. I can’t tell exactly which court you’re from. Likely not Summer. Or Day. But you’re High Fae, so you probably belonged to a noble house somewhere.”</p><p>“High … Fae?” she questioned.</p><p>“You’ve got the ears. The rest of you might be wrecked, but the shape of those doesn’t lie.”</p><p>When she continued to stare at him dumbfoundedly, he gently took one of her hands, guiding it languidly to an ear, which she could feel undoubtedly ended in a delicate point, unlike his.</p><p>“If I’m from one of these families, why can’t I go home?”</p><p>“I’m sure they’d welcome you back once we figure out where you belong, but … Relations among the courts aren’t very stable right now. Best to be as certain of your past as possible before we make a move.”</p><p>Well, that actually made sense. Plus, she didn’t know if one of her own had betrayed her and locked her up here.</p><p>“Where are you from?” she probed.</p><p>“Night. The northernmost court.” He raked a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with her probing into his life, but …</p><p>“What’s your name?” She needed something to call him, even if her own identity was up in the air. She needed something which would ground her as her mind whirled, coming up short every time she attempted to peek into her nebulous past.</p><p>A heartbeat passed. Two. “Azriel,” he finally murmured, and she sensed that he was being candid with her. “What should I call you?”</p><p>Clearly, he had been of the same mind, though nothing came to mind. The girl quickly searched the room, finding nothing even remotely suitable. It would be rather pathetic to name herself after the fireplace, or a spoon, or a chair, or …</p><p>Her eyes caught on a vase full of blooms in the corner. Whatever magic managed the upkeep of this cottage must have kept them suspended. Flowers … It wouldn’t be so terrible to be named after a flower. Plenty of people were, and names began to flood her mind. Rose? Lily? Freesia? No, none of those had the right feel to her. She wanted something exotic, her mind reaching out to a vision of trees practically dripping with vivid saffron blossoms.</p><p>“Cassia. Like the tree, with the flowers.”</p><p>She’d thought it was a rather creative name, given the fact that he had put her on her toes, and she didn’t exactly have a lifetime of memories to filter through to come up with it, yet Azriel grimaced. It was almost imperceptible before he schooled his expression again.</p><p>“You don’t like it?” she asked.</p><p>“It’s fine,” he grunted, eyes frozen on his lap, hands clenched in fists at his sides. “I’ll go get you some stew. I know you aren’t hungry, but it’d be good for you to have a few sips of the broth before you fall asleep again.</p><p>Cassia fought her fatigue to grab hold of his wrist before he could leave without giving her a proper answer, but her body failed her, her arm not making it more than a few inches off the bed before collapsing once more.</p><p>She just wanted to understand this mystery of a man who she’d spent so long watching from afar. It was no fair that she was stuck like this, unable to fight for her desires.</p><p>He returned, sitting gingerly upon the edge of the mattress, some of the familiarity he’d allowed her earlier obviously taken back. He raised the spoon to her lips, which obediently took as much of the steaming liquid as he offered, before retreating once again to blow out some candles strewn around the room, until they were alone with only the firelight to illuminate them.</p><p>Cassia began to fret, as he reached over her, grabbing a pillow from the other side of the bed and retreated a few feet to rest it on the floor. She wanted to protest, but honestly, she was a bit relieved that she wasn’t forced to sleep in such close proximity to the stranger, familiar though he might seem.</p><p>“You’re really staying there?” she inquired, for surely Azriel had some place of his own where he could retreat for the night.</p><p>“I’ve slept on worse,” he murmured from the floor. “And I’m not going to leave you alone. I promise. Just shout if you need anything.”</p><p>But she didn’t require anything that he could give her, and within minutes, she felt herself fading again.</p><p>You’d think that after sleeping for at least a century, one might feel rested, but you’d be very, <i>very </i>wrong.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Cassia</i>. The name burned in Azriel’s mind, robbing him of sleep as he was forced to relive some of the most viscerally painful days of his frankly too-long, immortal life. It wasn’t the female’s fault that she’d somehow come up with that name.</p><p>If anything, he should be thrilled that she’d given him some clue as to where she might have been raised. If he could get to a library and look up these trees, perhaps he could help her narrow down her past. Perhaps he could provide them some focus. If he could even focus on anything other than that long-lost brother whenever he was forced to say the name.</p><p>He rose quietly, after only a handful of hours, knowing that any further attempts would be in vain. Padding to the door, he left a tendril of shadow behind to alert him if the female stirred, but first, he needed to check in with his High Lord and also to gather supplies.</p><hr/><p>Cassia awoke the next morning with a wicked headache and a growling stomach, which was a damn shame because every measly thought of food made her want to turn over the edge of the bed and empty the nonexistent contents of her stomach onto the floor.</p><p>Yet, what was most disconcerting to her was the pressure on her bladder. Panicking, she fumbled with her legs, attempting to bend them to her will, only to find that she was barely able to swing them over the lip of the mattress, much less stand on them.</p><p>She opened her mouth to inquire after the location of the man—Azriel, she remembered with a hint of difficulty—from yesterday, when he burst through the door.</p><p>“What do you need?” The words flew from his mouth as he looked her surely-pathetic form over, body contorted, as her limbs hung limply from the bed, eyes frantic.</p><p>Cassia’s entire face heated, her eyes darting to the bathroom door.</p><p>“Right,” he murmured. “Of course. I’m going to need to … Umm … Since you can’t hold yourself up, there’s no easy way to do this.”</p><p>“Just get it over with,” she muttered, not thrilled with the fact that he would be seeing her so vulnerable but finding no other alternative.</p><p>“Can you hold it for a minute?” he asked, one scarred hand scratching at the back of his neck.</p><p>“I guess?” Even though she had barely imbibed anything, she felt full to bursting, yet she allowed him a moment to compose himself. She wasn’t in any hurry to have him undressing her and having to deal with her private bodily functions.</p><p>Strangely, Azriel merely gave her a nod and began focusing on unpacking something from the satchel he’d brought with him.</p><p>“Where did you go? I thought you weren’t going to leave me alone,” she pried, suddenly curious about his whereabouts.</p><p>“You weren’t alone. I had eyes on the cabin. Besides, I figured you’d want to get out of that gown. It can’t feel too fresh after … well, after however long you were asleep.”</p><p>Cassia angled her head slightly, taking in a gown she’d seen hundreds of times in her dreams. Now that she had been able to awaken a bit, she noticed that it did itch quite a bit, and the skirts were impractically flowing across the mattress, taking up far too much space.</p><p>“Here you are. I got an assortment of clothing for you. Mostly shirts and pants—”</p><p>“Pants?!” Somehow, the concept seemed utterly appalling to her. Whoever she’d been in her past life must’ve loved … Well, they must’ve loved gowns like the exact one she’d been stuffed into.</p><p>“Yes, pants,” he sighed. “They’re more practical. You can’t expect to be fully made up like some sort of fairytale princess everyday. We’re going to need to build up your muscles, and unless you want me to have full visibility …” His eyes drifted to her midsection.</p><p>“Fine,” she snapped perhaps a bit too harshly, causing him to jolt. She wasn’t sure why she felt so passionately about this. It was a silly vanity leftover from her preconceived notions. “I mean, thank you. Sorry.”</p><p>Azriel’s face softened a fraction before he turned. “Ah, there she is.”</p><p>As if by his summons, a petite, dark skinned woman materialized at his side, causing Cassia to gasp.</p><p>“Easy. This is Nuala. She’s a friend. I figured …” There was that insecurity hovering on his features for a fraction of a second before he schooled himself. “I figured you might feel more comfortable if she assisted you instead of me.”</p><p>Oh. Well, that was actually incredibly thoughtful of him. She nodded in assent, prompting him to hand the slight woman a bundle of fabric and heading toward the front door. “I’ll be right outside in case you two need anything.” He shuffled awkwardly, having to pull his wings in rather tight to make it through the narrow frame before shutting the door behind him.</p><p>Cassia tried to make small talk with Nuala as she was dressed, yet, though friendly, the woman did not provide her with verbose answers to her questions about the man who’d rescued her, preferring to defer to him. “I’m not sure if he’d mind telling you.” “I work with him, actually.” “It’s not my business to say.” With every deflection, Cassia grew more frustrated, though she appreciated the services she was provided.</p><p>When she had awkwardly finished relieving herself and the surprisingly strong woman had managed to place her back on the bed, the door swung open, and Azriel reentered, nodding appreciatively to the woman.</p><p>“Well, it’s been nice getting to know you, Lady …”</p><p>It was at that moment that Cassia realized with embarrassment that she had never introduced herself … but neither had Azriel, quite oddly. “You may call me Cassia.”</p><p>One onyx eyebrow lifted, as her head turned to the man standing stock still next to the dining room table. He merely nodded demurely. “Lady Cassia. I hope to see more of you soon.”</p><p>With a warm smile, the woman disappeared, leaving only shadows in her wake.</p><p>“What was that about?”</p><p>“What?” He tried to play it off, yet she could tell that some sort of silent conversation had passed between the two of them when she’d mentioned her name.</p><p>She bored her eyes into him, unable to grab him by the wrist and demand he tell her from this distance, with this measly body.</p><p>For a full minute, he shuffled around the kitchen aimlessly, checking cupboards, opening the icebox. Anything not to acknowledge her glare before finally he sighed and his eyes met her own. He glided across the room, plopping himself on the stool which resided beside her bed. “<i>What?</i>”</p><p>His voice was rougher, more raw, than any other he’d used with her. There was something he was hiding from her. Something he seriously did not want to acknowledge, yet if it was something about who she was, she couldn’t risk it.</p><p>“You reacted when I said that name last night too. Why? What do you know about me?”</p><p>“It’s not about you at all,” he murmured, eyes tilted to the floor.</p><p>“Then what <i>is</i> it?”</p><p>Elbows on his knees, head resting on his hands, she heard a sharp inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. It went on for a minute or two before he finally admitted in a broken whisper. “I just lost someone, all right? I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“And the name reminds you?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“Do you want me to change it?”</p><p>He shook his head. “I can’t take your name from you. For all we know, that <i>is</i> your proper name. I’ll learn to live with it. Just … give me time to adjust.”</p><p>“They must have meant a lot to you.”</p><p>Hazel eyes, full to the brim with firm resolve rose to meet her own. “He did. It’s been … hard. Feeling like I have to move on. Be strong for others. But I don’t want to.”</p><p><i>Oh</i>. Whoever this man was, clearly Azriel was <i>not </i>even remotely close to moving on. Cassia bit her tongue before she could ask how long it had been since their passing. She somehow felt that opening up like this was not something Azriel did often, and she didn’t want him to clam right back up on her.</p><p>Gingerly shifting a hand, she placed it atop his own. “I’m sorry for your loss. He was a lucky man to have you.”</p><p>“Male,” he corrected almost immediately.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Man is the word humans use to describe their males.”</p><p>“And women?”</p><p>“Females, of course. Though you should really know this, being High Fae and everything.”</p><p>“Do you think perhaps I just lived with humans?”</p><p>“It’s … unlikely. We haven’t exactly gotten on well with them for centuries now. We allied with some in the war, but the losses were so great on either side that we parted ways once more afterwards.”</p><p>“War?”</p><p>“Right.” A tight chuckle bubbled through his lips. “There have been many wars, but the most recent was the bloodiest I’ve ever seen. We won, but only barely. No way for me to tell if you were already like this or if you lived it in your own way. Anyways …” A hand raked through his hair, disheveling it completely. “Let’s get you back on your feet.”</p><hr/><p>Cassia had been less than thrilled with him for working so thoroughly on her body, but it had to be done. At least she now appreciated his decision to buy her the loose cotton trousers after a lengthy session of him working her legs as she laid atop the bed.</p><p>While he’d never worked with someone who shared her condition exactly, Azriel had volunteered to help in war camps, tending to the injured in the aftermath of numerous battles. He’d seen how soldiers’ muscles atrophied when they were bedridden for long periods of time and assisted the Illyrian healers in exercising them little by little. And Cauldron help him, he even remembered bits and pieces of his own rehabilitation as a child, when he’d finally been allowed to stretch his limbs, <i>his wings</i>.</p><p>Cassia’s own withering was far more extreme, yet he couldn’t exactly march her into Velaris or Windhaven to have one of the more experienced healers look at her. Not before he knew more about who she was and <i>why </i>this had happened to her.</p><p>Nuala and Cerridwen, he trusted above all others, knowing after centuries of experience that the twins would take his secrets to the grave if need be. Even Rhys had not managed to inspire as fierce loyalty from the two of them, one of the benefits of training them himself when they came into his brother’s employ.</p><p>The two were now taking on his work, as well as waiting at his beck and call. This female might be High Fae, but the benefits of her blood could still only work so rapidly. It might take weeks before she felt comfortable waltzing herself to the bathing room to care for her needs, and he certainly wouldn’t force upon her the embarrassment of his assistance. It was clear that even if she couldn’t remember her upbringing, she was from some proper, upper class family.</p><p>It saddened him to see what she’d become. Her skin was still gaunt, her hair thin and reedy, leeched of color, but surely she had been lovely. Possibly, someone had locked her away out of jealousy, which was a damn shame. His shadows, usually buzzing in the presence of others, tittering away about them were preternaturally silent around her. Either they trusted her or even they couldn’t detect anything about her. Which probably meant that she was being genuine with him.</p><p>But would her memory come back? What had she meant when she’d said, <i>I knew you’d come for me</i>? What would he do with her if her memory never returned? How was he going to explain his prolonged absence to Rhys and Feyre?</p><p>So many questions swirled in his mind as he tended a pot over the stove. Cassia had taken more to water today as well as copiously drank the broth he’d offered her earlier, even though she’d complained about an upset stomach.</p><p>She would still need to take it easy, but the more food he could get her to keep down, the speedier her recovery would be.</p><p>She was an odd female. Perhaps it was just her lack of memory, but she was unusually quiet, contemplative. Every once in a while, she’d break the silence with a small musing or a murmured question. They were little things. Questions about colors and foods and trivialities that made Azriel realize that her mind was whirling at a million miles a minute, grasping at any straws of her past self that she could find.</p><p>The least he could was gift her with his own answers, helping her not feel so alone in her quest. And who knew? Perhaps something he said would ignite some spark within her.</p><p>He was returning to the pot for one final taste of his creation, when she let out a strangled cry.</p><p>In a heartbeat, he had closed the distance between himself and the bed, scanning her face to find the source of her troubles, yet he found vacant eyes staring back at him.</p><p>“Shit,” he mumbled, grabbing her frail arms between his hands and shaking at her, every movement calculated as he feared breaking her even further. “Cassia. Come on. What’s going on?”</p><p>But the female remained silent, staring up at nothing with glassy, dull brown eyes. She was still breathing, but it was as if she had merely vacated her body. After a few more minutes of failed attempts at rousing her—including pressing his lips to hers as he had yesterday to break whatever spell had been on her—he rolled her to her side as if she were a vagrant drunk passed out on the streets and huddled on the edge of the mattress. Watching. Waiting.</p><p>Eventually, he was alerted to her return to him by a sputtering sound, almost immediately followed by her gagging and hurling her lunch onto the floor.</p><p>He jolted, the mattress groaning at the sudden shift in weight. Luckily none of it had landed on his boots, but perhaps he had underestimated just how tenuous her stomach situation was.</p><p>Twig-like arms flew to her face as her cheeks flushed and he was forced to console her. “You can’t control what’s going on in your body. I’ll just grab a rag and …” As he glanced down at the puddle on the floor, it shrank to nothing, the sharp tang of magic hitting his nostrils. So he had been correct in assuming that this was an enchanted cabin. It reminded him of a smaller version of the one his brother kept hidden up in the mountains.</p><p>Freed from the responsibility of cleaning up, he perched himself once more on the edge of the mattress. “Where did you go?” he asked in a low voice, his shadows already flittering out invisibly toward the female with pure curiosity.</p><p>“What do you mean? Where would I go? I just woke up.”</p><p>“No, no, no,” Azriel muttered. “You were <i>not</i> asleep. You were wide awake but unresponsive.”</p><p>“No, I just woke up because my stomach hurt, and … I was dreaming. I had to be asleep.”</p><p>“What did you dream about?” Azriel pressed. There was definitely something which was not normal about this situation, and if Cassia thought she was asleep, then maybe her dreams meant something.</p><p>“It was just little things. Nothing like the dream I had of you. A golden hand on my arm. A pair of turquoise eyes. A pot boiling over. A bird landing in a tree outside. Umm … There were more, but they were all like that. Just moments in time.”</p><p>“Why the hell would you go catatonic on me while having those dreams?” he countered, frustrated that they were so benign.</p><p>“Perhaps it’s just a side effect of whatever spell I was under,” she shrugged weakly.</p><p>“You’ve been wide awake all day, though. Why would you slip back into that place?”</p><p>“Nothing about me adds up.” She said it with such resignation, as if this day spent confined to the bed had given her plenty of opportunity to contemplate her existence now, and she’d lost some of that fire to figure this mystery out. Strange for someone so long-lived to be so impatient. Her head cocked a fraction. “That bothers you, doesn’t it? Not knowing?”</p><p>There was unbridled curiosity in her question.</p><p>“Yes,” he admitted after matching her gaze for a moment. “I’m used to knowing what’s going on. You’re like a puzzle with no edge pieces, and the cat has probably eaten half of them. I don’t know what to make of you.”</p><p>“Is that really so terrible?” she mused. “Not everything is meant to be known. I may never remember anything. Maybe there was a reason I forgot.”</p><p>He could sense her hand moving to his own, for whatever purpose, he could not determine, but just then a loud hissing noise emanated from the kitchen, as his stew began to overflow the small pot he’d been stirring it in.</p><p>Right. He’d turned up the heat right before getting distracted by whatever trance Cassia had fallen under.</p><p>With a jerk, he headed to the kitchen, removing the pot from the heat and spooning it into two bowls he’d found in the ever-accommodating cupboard.</p><p>As he settled onto the stool next to her, preparing to help feed her, wondering if this was still such a good idea after her stomach’s glorious display only minutes before, she broke the silence between them. “Is it?”</p><p>“Yes, it is. Everything has some sort of reasonable explanation. Even magic. There’s a balance to it. Whatever happened to you must too, and we’re going to figure out what it is.”</p><p>His shadows didn’t fail to inform him of the slight smile which rose to her lips as he bent his head to prepare a spoonful for the mysterious female before him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Azriel might be loath to admit it, but Cassia could tell that the question of her origin didn’t plague him one hundred percent of the time.</p><p>As the quiet, contemplative man—male, she needed to mentally remind herself at every turn—wandered about their cabin, she noticed that his eyes weren’t always burning with that curious fire. Sometimes the amber in them dulled to rust. Sometimes, she even found them swimming with a brilliant ochre. He’d even laughed once.</p><p>Once. But it was enough for her to know that whatever was going on in that fortress of a mind of his was as varying as the trees in the forest and as deep as the sea to the south. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, just that she must have lived near the water at some point in time.</p><p>She’d told Azriel as much, yet in the week since she’d awoken, he hadn’t been able to pinpoint any exact location from her. He’d even brought out a map and showed her how there were a handful of points where Prythian had peninsulas jutting out into the seas on the east and west, but the Human Lands made up most of the land which could claim a sea on their southern edge.</p><p>It had been a week full of being cared for by Azriel and the shadowy slips of females who mysteriously showed up whenever she had a more sensitive need, volunteering to dress and bathe and assist her with anything else she might require in the bathing chambers.</p><p>If she had to admit it, she didn’t particularly mind the clothing assortment or the touch of Azriel’s scarred hands on her limbs as he worked them tirelessly, always finding little peppering questions to distract her from the monotony of the repetitive motions.</p><p>The real triumph had happened though when she realized that she was more able to maneuver herself around the bed and actually managed to hold her utensils steadily enough to feed herself a full meal. It had been exhausting, but it proved that whatever regimen he had her on was <i>working</i>. Even if it didn’t seem like she’d be able to carry her own weight on her legs anytime soon.</p><p>She’d had more strange dreams as well, yet they all played out much the same as the first. They were a collage of seemingly insignificant moments. Sometimes she recognized bits and pieces of a female body which she instinctively knew was her own, but it was only in snippets. Even if she was somehow gaining a window to her past, there was no conversation to be heard, no setting beyond her to be gleaned. Just pale, freckled skin and lush fabrics.</p><p>Once she had even seen her hands within a pair of scarred ones which could only be Azriel’s. He didn’t seem to particularly enjoy when he noticed that her attention was focused wholly on him—a male used to remaining in the shadows and not being the center of attention—yet she’d had ample time to study the beauty of the whorls which marred his skin, slightly paler than the rest of him.</p><p>She kept this tidbit to herself, knowing that there was no way they could’ve met prior to him wandering upon her in the forest. It was likely just her subconscious daring to dream of what could be between them.</p><p>Cassia hadn’t failed to notice how handsome he was. Though he attempted to mute all his features, there was no denying that he had a lean muscular frame, cheekbones to die for, and those gorgeous eyes which she frequently got lost in whenever she could sneak a glance at them. Then, there was the fact that she’d built him up in her head for years, always revisiting that scene in which his lips had set her free.</p><p>There was no way that he could ever reciprocate her feelings though. She was just this baggage that he had had the misfortune to discover, and now he seemed to feel like he owed it to her to rehabilitate her.</p><p>It was a kind sentiment, but she knew how she appeared. She didn’t need the reminder in the bathing room mirror every morning to know that she looked like a phantom, and that even though she might have started building back what she had lost, it would be awhile yet before she ever returned to any form of beauty. And by then the damage would have been done to his mental image of her.</p><p>“So what do you do when you leave?” she asked, as he sat next to her one evening, reading from the pile of books he’d brought to keep her company.</p><p>Azriel had finally grown comfortable enough with her for him to admit that while he would continue staying here, he couldn’t spend twenty four hours a day in the cabin. They would need food and supplies in addition to the vague allusions he made to having other duties to fulfill, and she trusted that the shadows he left in his wake would bring him flying back if she desperately needed him.</p><p>“A bit of this and that.” He flipped a page idly.</p><p>“You know I have nothing better to do stuck in this bed than daydream about what that might be. If you continue putting me off, I might just have to assume the worst of you.”</p><p>“And what would that be?” he asked, a hint of playful curiosity in his voice.</p><p>“That you’re a scoundrel, running a crime ring, drinking and gambling your life away. All while I sit here and rot.”</p><p>There was that midnight chuckle which sent shivers down her spine. “Well, if that’s what you think of me, then I’m not sure anything I say will change your mind.”</p><p>“Oh, just tell me. I know you aren’t just shopping or whatever other half assed answers you always give me.”</p><p>“I <i>do</i> go shopping. Where do you think all the bread you can’t stop scarfing down comes from?”</p><p>“But …” She elbowed him, now having completely set down her book and staring at him with what she prayed looked like doe eyes.</p><p>“When I found you … I was here to spy. The High Lord of this land and my own High Lord and Lady aren’t on particularly good terms. The twins are in my employ, so lately, they’ve been doing the bulk of the work for me, but even they need my assistance. And I also need to report in myself regularly, lest they grow suspicious.”</p><p>“Have you told them about me?” she wondered aloud.</p><p>“No, I have not.” Azriel’s voice was tight.</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Though I trust those two with my life, there are ears everywhere. I’d rather keep the knowledge of you between myself, the twins, and the shadows, lest anyone unsavory learn of it.”</p><p>“Would you ever introduce me to them?”</p><p>“Perhaps one day, when you’re feeling better. When it’s safe.” Well, that was better than nothing, but ...</p><p>“I’m going to have to leave this cabin eventually, whether or not I’ve figured anything out. I think I’d go crazy staying here for too long after my recovery. It’s already a little maddening, but it’s not like I have any big plans at the moment.”</p><p>“Then, yes. If you need somewhere to go when you’re better, I’ll take you to visit the Night Court.”</p><p>“Is it always dark there?” she questioned him. He had only parted with the name of his court previously, but now that he’d told him a bit more about its leaders, perhaps he would give her just a little bit more. She was oh so curious about where this enigma of a male came from.</p><p>“Cauldron, no.” He huffed a laugh. “That would be rather dreary, wouldn’t it? The sun still rises every morning and sets every evening. Our nights are just somehow more … vivid. Some choose to forgo waking during the day in order to fully experience it.”</p><p>“But I thought ... With the shadows?”</p><p>“Even shadows need light in order to survive. Now, Spring, the court we’re in, is forever in the thrall of the season.”</p><p>“That sounds nice.”</p><p>“You think that you’re bored of this cabin after a week. Just imagine an eternity in which the seasons never change and life just feels stagnant. I think I’d go mad myself.”</p><p>“That’s true. What’s there to look forward to if you never have to deal with the extremes of winter or the burning heat of summer?”</p><p>“Aha!” Azriel turned toward her excitedly.</p><p>“What?” Cassia practically yelped, shocked at his enthusiasm.</p><p>“You must be from one of the Solar Courts. They’re the only one who experience an actual changing of the seasons.”</p><p>“And that would be …” She racked her brain for the answer. Seven courts. Four seasons. Night. Which left … “Day and Dawn?”</p><p>“Exactly. Oh, this is good. So you’re from up north. At least that narrows down about half of the bloody continent. So what are you doing in Spring? Tamlin has many enemies, so that doesn’t quite help me.”</p><p>“Tamlin?” Who the hell was that?</p><p>“High Lord of this court. Only problem is that he’s managed to get on the bad sides of Rhys, Feyre, Lucien, and Thesan over the years. This cabin is using advanced magic. It’s likely owned by someone in the nobility or upper class so I wouldn’t put it behind Tamlin or one of his friends to have done this to you.”</p><p>“So I could be from any of those places?” Cassia frowned, glancing at the map Azriel had excitedly spread before her. That only really narrowed down half of the continent. They could spend an eternity searching for someone who remembered her, if any such person even still existed.</p><p>“Yes, but odds are that if you were from a high ranking family, we could merely take you to court and pray that someone there recognized you. No matter how long you were lying there, we’re long-lived enough that there’s still a decent chance of that being a possibility,” he mentioned offhand, as if he had already assessed what her worries would be.</p><p>“And you could make that happen?”</p><p>“All of it, provided you need it. I’d take you back home first and introduce you around and then get the wheels moving on those requests.”</p><p>“Wow, you must be really important.”</p><p>“Only to a few. Even though I might be able to pull some weight, it doesn’t mean that anyone even really notices when I come and go. That’s my fault I guess. I tend to mask that from them.”</p><p>“And why is that?” The male before her obviously held secrets tight to his chest, but ever since Cassia had known him, she’d seen an unexpected side of him.</p><p>That first day, he had been cold, tense. But then he’d broken down at the mention of his loved one who had passed away, and ever since, he’d been warming to her. She still saw his haunted eyes when he forgot he had ever-present company, yet when they spoke, when he cared for her, those jagged edges smoothed. The shadow of a male was even finally beginning to actually tell her about the world around them which she had somehow forgotten.</p><p>She guessed it made sense. If she had found a stranger in the woods, wouldn’t she have had an inkling of suspicion as well? While she was determined to see the good in people, she knew that most weren’t. And even those determinations weren’t steadfast.</p><p>“What’s your family like?” she asked without a care for how nosy she was being. She had nobody at this moment besides Azriel. Sad that the only connection she could find was second-hand through him.</p><p>“I haven’t spoken to my blood in centuries. I have … one brother—in name only, yet he’s all I have. We met when we were thrown into the same training camp as children. Growing up together, hated by all the other boys your age—it has a way of bonding you.”</p><p>“What kind of training camp?” Cassia prodded, thoroughly enjoying every inch he was gifting her.</p><p>“My race—we’re called Illyrians—are glorified war machines. When our whelps are young, they get thrown into the training ring and taught how to handle every weapon under the sun. They beat the shit out of each other day in and day out throughout their adolescence, until they’ve finally come of age and can compete in a brutal week-long survival match so they can prove themselves worthy.”</p><p>“That sounds horrible.”</p><p>“It wasn’t fun, but my brother and I … We became friends then. Closer. I lived with him and my mother during that time. My own father was a right asshole, and my birth mother was beholden to him, even though I was merely a bastard. I rarely saw her after I moved to the camp to train, and she passed away half a century ago, unable to go on after her husband was slain in battle.”</p><p>“What do you think my family was like?”</p><p>“Growing up in the nobility, you were likely coddled from a babe. Being female, your mother probably taught you enough reading and writing and manners in order to one day run a household. And your father probably doted on you, knowing that one day he would have to hand you over to some lord or other as a wife.”</p><p>It struck a chord in Cassia, yet she couldn’t help but feel from somewhere deep in her gut that her life hadn’t been quite as splendid.</p><p>“When you awoke, you had a ring on one of your fingers, but the second you moved in your sleep, it flew off your hand. Here.” Azriel handed her a band of some dark metal with a small gem inlaid in it.</p><p>“What kind of ring is this?”</p><p>“It’s unlike any style I’ve known of before. The band is iron, which was once used by ignorant humans as a way to ward off the Fae, but it’s completely ineffectual against us. Case in point, it’s not burning your skin right now as you hold onto it.”</p><p>“But why would someone gift this to me?” It made no sense why she would own something which looked like it was more of human origin than Fae. “Was I with a human?”</p><p>“It would be quite the slight for a human man to give you that. I’ve been puzzling it over myself for the past week, but I’m none the wiser as to where you might’ve acquired it. I thought perhaps it would trigger something for you now that you’re starting to improve.”</p><p>Cassia just disappointedly shook her head. There was <i>nothing </i>coming to mind, no cobwebs in the back of her brain getting dusted off.</p><p>“Well, it’s just one more piece of the puzzle, then. If not today, maybe tomorrow, something will spark in that noggin of yours.” He playfully tapped at her temple with a calloused finger, and Cassia could feel the chill of his icy finger lingering for an eternity after he removed it, closing his book and remarking that it was getting late.</p><p>Indeed, she had been fighting to keep from yawning for awhile now, trying to push with all her strength to keep herself awake so her body would finally start adapting to a regular schedule again. She still took far too many naps during the day for her liking, and though she should be content with her progress otherwise, it still grated on her that her body was somehow subpar.</p><p>He set up the bed roll he had brought with him on their second day on the floor near the bed. She had remarked that it looked uncomfortable, to which Azriel merely shrugged. During times of war, he had slept on these for weeks or months at a time. It was just something his body was used to when necessity dictated itself.</p><p>It didn’t stop Cassia from feeling guilty about hogging the entire bed, though. But she knew that if she ever suggested they switch, he would throw the fact that she thought the bedroll seemed uncomfortable back in her face and refuse to help move her to the floor. The male had a firm resolve whenever he felt strongly about something, and somehow she knew he would never do anything to intentionally inconvenience her. Which was both endearing and completely frustrating because she could see how much he was sacrificing in his own life just by being here with her very often.</p><p>When he was situated, he asked her once more if she needed anything before bed, which she politely declined and then extinguished the faelight, the warm glow of embers from the fireplace the only thing left with which to see by faintly as Cassia rolled onto one side and quickly found slumber.</p><hr/><p>
  <i>Bones snapping like twigs. Guttural cries. High-pitched screaming. Cassia was assaulted by blurry images, but the one thing she couldn’t mistake was the blood. It was everywhere, even as she tried to focus on the images of what could only be people—people who were being subjected to these torments.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A male voice grunted out his feelings as a presumably female voice sobbed on top of him.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Romantic. But ill-advised,” an oily voice crooned only moments before a light more blinding and radiant than the sun overtook her vision and Cassia found herself weeping.</i>
</p><hr/><p>Azriel was awoken by the sounds of sobbing. For a groggy moment, he wondered what strange scene the shadows were trying to recreate in his ears, until he remembered that he was <i>not </i>alone in his apartment but rather on the floor of the cabin he was sharing with Cassia.</p><p>Shit—<i>Cassia</i>. As he lifted himself off the ground, he scanned her in the dim glow of the firelight, finding nothing physically wrong—well, nothing more than the usual—yet she was shaking, eyes screwed shut, keeling from atop the mattress.</p><p>He took a tentative seat next to her, one hand finding her shoulder and he made a soft shushing noise, meant to soothe. Yet she showed no reaction to it. He’d expected her to cock an eye, to lean into his hand a fraction … Cauldron, she was still asleep.</p><p>Azriel had dealt with his own brand of nightmares for centuries, so he knew that they could be hard to shake. He settled for murmuring her name as he shook her slightly more vigorously, still careful to avoid any movement rough enough to shake her fragile state any further.</p><p>“Cass—Cassia. Cassia. <i>Cassie</i>.” He began to tremble, forced to hold that name on his tongue for longer than he wished to, and mother above, he’d almost called her by Cass’s nickname—something he hadn’t spoken aloud in over a century.</p><p>With a groan hitched between a sob, she finally rolled over to face him, red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears.</p><p>“Shhhhhh. What happened?” Azriel murmured, unsure what to do with himself. She raised a too-thin arm to cover her eyes, ignoring him completely. “Cassie, you have to talk to me.” He cursed himself for allowing such familiarity between them, but they’d spent so much time together over the past week that it was difficult not to allow himself those liberties.</p><p>She was a completely unknown factor in his life, yet something about the thought intrigued him rather than frightened him. Though so much of her was shrouded in mystery, the parts which remained had proven genuine and … curious. He’d never had someone who had shown so much interest in his life.</p><p>Sure, it was likely just a side effect of the fact that he was her only companionship right now, and she had to be bored out of her mind. But still …</p><p>“<i>Please</i>.” He poured every ounce of himself into that desperate word. What was wrong? What had she remembered?</p><p>“He killed them.”</p><p>“Who killed whom?”</p><p>“I … I don’t know. Everything was hazy, and I couldn’t see more than blurry shapes and colors, but there were three people. Two were gravely injured, and a third was taunting them mercilessly. Then, there was an explosion. I assume it was just me being kicked out of the dream, yet I could feel the death there.”</p><p>“So you dreamed about death? Is that what frightened you so?” Azriel knew the power dreams could have on one’s mind—the damage they could do.</p><p>“I know it was real. It had to be … It felt so …” She broke down into hysterics again.</p><p>Azriel tentatively ran a hand down her convulsing back, willing these demons to be chased away. Sometimes his dreams could feel more vivid than real life, especially the ones where … He shook his head. That was just the way of them. Nobody deserved to watch somebody die right before their eyes though, waking or sleeping.</p><p>“Have any of your other dreams been real?”</p><p>“The—the one where I met you was,” she sniffled.</p><p>“Are you sure that wasn’t merely a premonition, some sort of …” He stopped himself before he could say ‘delusion’. “Projecting? That some random male was always stumbling upon you in your dreams, and once it turned out to be me, your brain filled in the blanks?”</p><p>“I—I—It felt like you all along.”</p><p>“I’m just saying that maybe there’s some sort of explanation for what you saw. And perhaps … perhaps this one was a memory?”</p><p>“I certainly hope not,” she sputtered through a choked laugh.</p><p>Luckily, her trembling seemed to have subsided, so he eased off her bed, back to his nest on the floor. “I hope not too, for your sake. Do you …” he swallowed dryly. “Do you think you could fall back asleep tonight?”</p><p>“I … Yes. Just, promise you won’t leave me,” she pleaded, the agony clear on her face as he glanced upon it, leaning down to gaze upon him.</p><p>“Promise,” he replied, heart lodged in his throat. He took her dangling hand in his own, clenching it tenderly as he closed his eyes and felt her breathing ease between them. It was so delicate, as if made of bird bones, which any wrong move could snap without a second thought.</p><p>His only focus was on maintaining that soft connection to her as he drifted into the dark once more.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassia woke the next morning to a rough sensation rubbing against her hand. There, lying next to her own on the mattress, was Azriel’s hand, sticking up oddly from where he dozed on the floor next to her.</p>
<p>Had he really slept through the rest of the night with their hands intertwined? She had thought … Well, it was obvious that while she had known he was her savior for what felt like her entire existence, he had had no such prior connection to her.</p>
<p>The thought weighed leaden in her gut, because as much as she wanted to believe that any sort of affection she had for him could be returned, she knew this male did not open up easily. Their fingers woven together must just be a fluke sent by the universe—a male too exhausted for his body to fidget during his rest.</p>
<p>Movement still plagued her so she remained still in that connection, unwilling to disentangle them when it meant wasting some of the precious little energy she had.</p>
<p>It was a good while before his fingers began to twitch, joining the sound of him stirring beneath her, and Cassia let out a sigh. Her quiet moment of closeness with him was over. He’d likely wake up completely ready to get on with their day. Whatever that held in store.</p>
<p>“Shit,” Azriel mumbled, clutching a calloused hand to his temple as he slowly blinked his eyes to adjust to the light. “I haven’t slept this late in ages.”</p>
<p>Cassia felt her heart leap in her chest, the irrational notion that perhaps it was because he enjoyed their point of connection almost immediately overpowered by her realization that it was probably because her midnight breakdown had exhausted him.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry. About last night,” she offered as he began to stretch.</p>
<p>“We all have things that haunt us,” was his somber response. “Most of us just remember what they are.”</p>
<p>“Maybe one day I will,” she admitted, though the thought caused her to shudder. She could vividly remember the scraps of her dream, and if those were the result of her actually witnessing the murder … Perhaps it would be better if she never fully regained her memory. Just the bits and pieces which would inform her of who she was.</p>
<p>“I hope so. Are you ready to begin your stretching after I cook breakfast?”</p>
<p>She grumbled her assent.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on. I promise not to go too hard on you today.” His face transformed as he gave her a roguish wink, the sudden brightness against the shadows melting something deep within Cassia. “Just think. In a few weeks, this might all be a distant memory. You could be walking.”</p>
<p>That thought did brighten her outlook, though she had to admit that the uncertainty of what would come next was daunting. Azriel might very well decide to leave her once she was self-sufficient, and the thought of giving up this quiet cabin life scared her. She was a ghost—some remnant of the past completely lost in this time.</p>
<p>“Walking would be nice.” She winced as she realized she would need to be calling on Nuala soon in order to relieve herself. That would be the <i>first </i>thing she would be grateful to regain. “What about running?”</p>
<p>Perhaps he wouldn’t object to keeping this peace between them if she needed more help rehabilitating past the necessary steps to get her mobile.</p>
<p>“Let’s focus on getting you healthy first. All the rest can wait until we’ve made it over that hurdle.” Azriel ruffled her hair, eliciting an involuntary gasp from Cassia. “What’ll it be? Stew or stew?”</p>
<p>Cassia groaned. “Is there anything else you can make me? Pastries perhaps?”</p>
<p>“Those a favorite of yours?” he asked with a sly grin.</p>
<p>“All I know is that my stomach definitely cannot live without them for much longer.”</p>
<p>“Duly noted.” He began pulling out a pot and simmering some broth on the stove. Ugh. I guess this wasn’t going to be her lucky day. “I’ll find some for you soon. In the meantime, prove to me that you can keep this down for a little while longer, and I’ll feel better about it.”</p>
<p>Not something she could exactly control, but … Cassia was going to have a stern talking to with her stomach if it let her down here.</p>
<p>After they ate, Azriel began the same routine as yesterday, working the muscles in her legs back and forth as they creaked and groaned from the movement. She did her best to fight the grimace as he pushed them to their breaking point, aware that the more he was allowed to do his work, the quicker she’d heal.</p>
<p>She was so lost in thought, all her focus on maintaining her composure, that she balked as she registered him saying, “Straighten your leg.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” Cassia grit out. She took in the positioning of his hand against her foot, her knee at a right angle, her shins parallel to the bed.</p>
<p>“Try to straighten it. I’ll take my hand away, and you try to lay it flat on the bed.”</p>
<p>She gave him an inquisitive look. “I’m just trying to see how your body is healing. Depending on how powerful you are, your high fae blood could really heal at a variety of rates. I have no way to know without testing you.”</p>
<p>She nodded, gritting her teeth as she prepared to concentrate.</p>
<p>Azriel’s hand gradually eased off of her stockinged foot, and Cassia fought, putting every ounce of her willpower into her fatigued leg. She was able to dislodge it with much effort, but unable to control the speed at which it fell, plopping onto the mattress harder than she would’ve preferred.</p>
<p>“Interesting,” Azriel murmured.</p>
<p>“You seem to find a great deal of things about me interesting,” she retorted.</p>
<p>“Yes, well. It’s just that I’m still trying to piece together where you fit in this world. That should have been more of a struggle for you.”</p>
<p>Cassia’s chin dropped. “<i>More </i>of a struggle? It’s not exactly like I had any control over that.”</p>
<p>Azriel shook his head. “I didn’t expect it to even be possible this early. Your magic must be incredibly powerful. How have you been missing this long without your court tearing apart the world to try to find you?”</p>
<p>“Maybe nobody cares enough.” Cassia’s head drooped.</p>
<p>“I doubt it. Your healing is borderline as powerful as the Court Heirs are. That’s … nothing to scoff at.”</p>
<p>“So what does that make me?”</p>
<p>“Well, you look nothing like Rhys or Thesan. Perhaps Lucien, though you’re much paler, and I don’t see any firm resemblance.”</p>
<p>“Do I really look like anyone?” she pried him, unable to ignore the wraith she saw in the mirror whenever she happened to catch a glimpse of herself as Nuala assisted her in the bathing chamber.</p>
<p>“Though it’s hard to tell now, you gained a bit of color in the past couple of days. You’ll fill back out and start feeling more like yourself.”</p>
<p>“What about this?” She raised a beleaguered hand to the ends of her hair, the constant reminder of her horrendous physical appearance which she could see hanging onto her chest. Perhaps they had once held some color, yet they were brittle and greying. As if all the life had been sucked out of them.</p>
<p>“It’s just hair. Once you’re healthier, I’m sure it will begin growing strong and healthy as before, but in the meantime, there’s plenty which can be done with it.”</p>
<p>“I just want it to be beautiful. Is that so terrible of me?”</p>
<p>“Of course not,” Azriel murmured. “What do you want?”</p>
<p>“I want not to cringe every time I look in the mirror. I don’t want to see this hanging over me forever,” she sighed, only barely catching the heartbreak in Azriel’s face before he masked it.</p>
<p>“Then let’s fix that.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Cassia didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been for him to be up bright and early the next morning with a satchel in hand when she woke up.</p>
<p>She definitely hadn’t expected for him to immediately pull a steaming loaf of bread out and lay it on the small dining table before smiling at her.</p>
<p>“Is that for me?”</p>
<p>“I figured a little extra bread couldn’t hurt. And if you keep this down with the broth, you’ll be earning pastries by the end of the week.”</p>
<p>At that, her stomach gave an emphatic gurgle as she swore not to disappoint him.</p>
<p>One divine meal later, and she found herself not quite so much dreading their morning rehabilitation session, yet instead of getting right down to business, Azriel paused and returned to his spoils pulling out a jar of some sort and a pair of shears.</p>
<p>“I thought we could get this out of the way,” he offered. “If you’re amenable, of course.”</p>
<p>“You’d … do my hair?” Cassia asked incredulously. Somehow she just couldn’t come to terms with this muscular male ever doing something so … delicate.</p>
<p>“Why not?” He cocked his head. “You said it was bothering you, and it’s something I’ve done before. I think I’m fairly decent.”</p>
<p>“What is all that for?”</p>
<p>“The dye is to color it, and the scissors … Well. I figured if we got rid of some of the dried up ends, they might not bother you as much.” He shrugged, but she could see the tightness in his shoulders as if he regretted having asserted that she might want this.</p>
<p>“Okay, then. Surprise me.”</p>
<p>“You don’t even want to pick the color?” he mused.</p>
<p>Cassia shook her head. “I have no idea what would suit me. All the contemplating would just make my head spin. I trust you,” she murmured, and she wasn’t surprised to realize that she meant it.</p>
<p>“All right then. May I?”</p>
<p>At her nod, Azriel lifted her out of bed, balancing her as best he could in one of the chairs at the small dining table. She still was unable to sit up without support, but could likely maintain this position for a little while as long as Azriel was around to steady her.</p>
<p>The male quickly got to work, a soft snicking noise echoing in Cassia’s ears as he trimmed away at the mass of unruly, damaged hair until she felt it falling at her collarbones—just short enough that it was finally out of her way.</p>
<p>“How’d you learn to do this?” she inquired as he set the shears down with a soft thunk on the wood of the table.</p>
<p>“I did it all the time for my brothers, back in the camps. Once we moved out on our own, it just fell to me, so I figured it out quickly enough.”</p>
<p>Brothers? But … “ I thought you only had one brother,” she wondered aloud, only to be met with silence.</p>
<p>After a heartbeat of a pause, he scooped up a jar of ruddy chestnut hue and began working the viscous substance through the strands of her remaining hair.</p>
<p>She had all but given up on him answering her when she heard a hoarse, “There used to be another.”</p>
<p>Oh. “I’m sorry,” was all she could offer.</p>
<p>“He wouldn’t want you to be. He’d be pissed at me for still missing him this much after all this time, but I can’t …”</p>
<p>“What happened?”</p>
<p>“War.” She could practically hear him grimacing. “During the last war, we had to sacrifice so much. He and his mate … They made the ultimate sacrifice for us. Blew themselves to bits in order to take out the enemy king.”</p>
<p>It took him a while to stumble through the words, his stilted response keying her in on the fact that this male before her loved fiercely and deeply. Even after a century this loss was still wrecking him so thoroughly.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad he at least saved you from all of that.”</p>
<p>Rough hands began the process of stroking through her hair, sending shivers down her spine. “It would have been better if it were me. Those two had so much to live for.”</p>
<p>“Don’t say that! I’d still probably be lying on that table if it hadn’t been for you. You’re worth something to me.”</p>
<p>He was silent for another moment or two before murmuring, “Thank you,” and continuing the smooth progress of weaving in the dye through her locks.</p>
<p>When he was done, he silently went about washing his hands in the basin and then sweeping up her discarded locks as they waited for the dye to set.</p>
<p>Once he had finally washed it out and combed through her hair, he held up a small mirror for her.</p>
<p>While Cassia grimaced at the state of her face, she couldn’t help but admit that at least her hair made some microscopic fragment inside her feel beautiful. Sure, it was thin and brittle, but it looked clean. And she could see the beginning of a soft curl as it dried.</p>
<p>“How’d you choose this color?” she asked, curious since she could not have made the decision herself. Somehow, though, it felt like home.</p>
<p>“I thought it’d match your eyes,” was his soft response before he scooped her up and deposited her back on her mattress.</p>
<p>“I love it,” she admitted, which earned her a shy smile as the male scratched the back of his neck and definitely went easier on her stretching that morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>Tamlin is off in Autumn negotiating with Beron</i>, Azriel’s shadows whispered to him a week later. He gulped, knowing what this meant and why they had alerted him. This meant it would be significantly safer to move around the Spring Court, and considering that his charge seemed to have loved flowers enough in a past life, he had been hoping to get her out of the cabin.</p><p>He instructed Nuala to give Cassia something suitable for the temperatures to wear. The mysterious female could now sit up at least long enough to dress herself, though the process was slow-going. And she usually got tired rather quickly, but he could sense her resolve and feel her strengthening. It was only a matter of time before she was back on her feet in some capacity.</p><p>When he returned from Velaris with the special present he’d procured for her, he saw the questions in her eyes at her attire. It was quite the detour from the light cotton clothing she’d been donning to make sure she was as comfortable as possible.</p><p>“We’re going on a little trip,” he offered, packing up a canvas bag with some supplies before making his way over to her bed. “Do you feel up for it?”</p><p>“As long as I get to fly us,” she joked back at him with a soft smile playing on her lips. She was beginning to fill out more now, the hollowness of her cheeks giving way to rosy flesh as she gladly ate everything he put in front of her now. Once she’d started keeping her food down, it was like a switch had flipped, and she’d become ravenous, desperate to speed up the process of healing her ravaged body.</p><p>“What I wouldn’t give to see that,” Azriel tossed back at her as he scooped her into his arms. This had been difficult for both of them at first, yet as their time together in this cabin had gone on, they’d grown accustomed to him needing to carry her, needing to support her. For Nuala and Cerridwen could not constantly be at their disposal. Especially when he was keeping his High Lord and Lady in the dark while he assessed the situation.</p><p>Now Cassia melted into his arms in relaxation whenever they melded like this, and Azriel found himself astonished that anyone could find the comfort to do so. He’d always been the cold-as-steel shadowsinger, and even those he loved never seemed to be able to forget that. This female, though, it was as if she had no idea that there even was anything to fear from him. Perhaps he should distance himself, at least once they’d figured out how she fit into this world so she had a chance of living a life unblemished by the weight of his problems.</p><p>“Where are we going?” she asked him, to which he gave a coy smile.</p><p>“It’s a surprise.”</p><p>“You know, even if you told me, I don’t remember what anything is.”</p><p>“That’s true, but I prefer to keep my secrets close to my chest,” he murmured, tugging her closer and using a tendril of his Siphon to open the cottage door for them.</p><p>He could feel Cassia’s intake of breath as she took in the Spring forest around them. Though predominantly verdant, there were still pops of vibrant color spread throughout the canopies as they budded and blossomed before their very eyes.</p><p>If she hadn’t seemed so adamant about experiencing seasons, Azriel would have immediately pegged her as Spring-born. She even favored their complexions. And she belonged in a garden. Her demure manner all but exuded that.</p><p>Though she’d grown more comfortable with him in the past couple of days, enough to begin crafting these soft jokes which wormed their way straight into the cavity in his chest.</p><p>He knew he wasn’t allowed to think of her that way. It would only end poorly for them. For all they knew, they had competing interests which would become apparent when she got her memories back. It was safer to remind himself to keep his distance, difficult though it might be with her infectious charm.</p><p>“This isn’t even the best part,” he told her as he took off toward his destination. She didn’t even seem to notice him as she breathed in the nature around her, and he realized that it was a pity that she was confined indoors when she so clearly belonged out here.</p><p>A meandering walk through the forest finally brought them to the clearing he’d noticed nearby, and he knew his efforts weren’t in vain at the sharp drawing of breath which escaped her.</p><p>“It’s beautiful, Azriel,” she breathed as he turned around so she could fully take in the wildflowers in riotous bloom around them. But broken and battered though she was, he had to resist the urge to repeat the sentiment to her—that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.</p><hr/><p>Cassia sat with her back against Azriel’s chest, praying that he would mistake her heart beating wildly for her excitement at being brought to witness this splendor.</p><p>He had laid out a blanket for them, and she had sat on her own for a while before she began to tire, and he offered to prop her up himself.</p><p>His warmth was seeping through the back of her tunic, fending off the spring winds, and she was in heaven.</p><p>Cassia’s stomach growled, and Azriel startled a bit beneath her. “Right. You must be starving.” He mumbled some curses under his breath as he rummaged around behind her before a blackberry tart miraculously appeared in her field of vision.</p><p>She tried and failed to hold back her squeal of delight as she plucked it from his hand and delicately bit into the pastry.</p><p>Immediately, the tang of berry and sugar on her tongue mixed with the butteriness of the crust elicited a moan out of her.</p><p>“When you said you were craving those, I had no idea just how … <i>excited</i> you would be for one,” Azriel jested. And even though she could feel the telltale shaking of his chest as he laughed, her ears caught fire.</p><p>“Don’t knock it until you tried it,” she shot back, feebly lifting a hand until it smeared a bit of the jam onto Azriel’s face—his nose if she wasn’t mistaken. He had all the time in the world to react. To turn her trembling hand away. Yet he took it, his laughter picking up.</p><p>“Fair enough.” She felt him reach up a hand and swipe the offending goo off of his nose before licking his finger.</p><p>“Gross,” Cassia taunted him, but she was laughing now too at the absurdity of it all. The two of them were such an unlikely pair, and yet she couldn’t help but feel like fate had brought them together for some reason.</p><p>She knew that it was unreasonable for her to like this male as much as she did, but she had to admit that it felt like she’d known him for ages. She just couldn’t trick herself into thinking that he reciprocated those feelings. He was a good male, yet he was stuck with her until they figured out what to do with her, and she couldn’t help feeling like these soft moments laughing in flowery fields would last forever.</p><hr/><p>
  <i>A woman was screaming.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Cassia swiveled around right as a hand clasped over her mouth, and an oily voice told her, “Not so fast.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>She tried to shout for someone to rescue her, but then she saw it … All the blood. Everywhere around her were guards in dark leather face down on the marble floors. And in front of her, shouting her last before the hilt of a sword knocked her unconscious was a woman.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Her tawny hair was falling out of its crown atop her head, icy rivers of eyes widening as they beheld Cassia similarly fated.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And then nothingness.</i>
</p><hr/><p>
  <i>A man was kneeling before scorched earth, head in his hands as wings draped behind him. Cassia couldn’t quite make out the jumbled words coming out of his mouth, but she was sure of one thing—he was sobbing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>It took her a heartbeat to realize that this wasn’t Azriel. The slim yet muscular build, the veiny wings, the short black hair.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Yet, this man, his wings were slighter. And his ears were delicately pointed like hers. He must have been from some clan related to Azriel’s but … he didn’t fit the build exactly. Didn’t quite match up to the description provided.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>In time, a petite woman, her cinnamon eyes red-rimmed and bleary, sank down next to the man, holding him in her arms as they wept together.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Cassia couldn’t help but feel as if she should have been bawling her eyes out too, though she knew not the circumstances. They could be anyone, have lost anything. And the idea that she would be related to that loss was unimaginable.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Still, she couldn’t help it as the tears came unbidden, as they streamed down her face as she witnessed this private moment between two who clearly loved each other so much yet could not overcome their own loss.</i>
</p><hr/><p>Once again, Azriel awoke from his sleeping roll on the floor with a start. Cassia was writhing in her bed, whimpering. They all had their dark passengers, but it still struck him as odd that these nightmares plagued her so thoroughly when she had no idea what any of them meant.</p><p>He eased off the ground, slipping onto the mattress and pulling her to his chest. Her body did little to resist, as the quivering limbs began to still at his insistence, still not having the strength to fight him back of their own accord.</p><p>“Cassia,” he murmured repeatedly until she came to. The name was admittedly growing more familiar to his tongue over time, the sting lessening just a fraction as he was forced to readjust—to realign his thinking to associate it with her.</p><p>Her tear-sodden eyes suddenly flew open, a wave of heavy breathing overcoming her as Azriel gave her a moment to take in her surroundings before asking her, “Bad dreams again?”</p><p>She nodded, sinking into his chest. “A couple.”</p><p>“Do you want to talk about them?” he offered, knowing it was a longshot, but curious nonetheless. Perhaps they could piece together a bit of her puzzle better together.</p><p>She took a few steadying breaths before telling him in a shaky voice, “I think I had a sister. The girl looked like me, but … I don’t know what happened. Some men knocked her out and were taking her, but then everything went dark. Maybe … maybe that’s when whatever <i>this</i> is happened to me.”</p><p>“Do you think she’s out there somewhere too?”</p><p>“I … I don’t know. I have no way of knowing. Would you look?”</p><p>Azriel nodded his ascent before probing more. “And your other dream?”</p><p>“Two people I didn’t recognize mourning over some disaster site. One looked like you. Except not. Didn’t have your ears. The other was a blonde woman.”</p><p>Was that … Rhys she was talking about? But how would she …? Was she Night Court after all? Because that certainly sounded like Rhys and Mor, but surely if they were close enough with her, he would have known of her existence. So was her mind making these things up?</p><p>He needed to proceed with caution, but he was so incredibly curious. “You know Rhys and Mor?” he probed, searching her eyes but finding not a spark of recognition at the names before she shook her head.</p><p>“Who are they?”</p><p>“Just … friends of mine. Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t quite make sense, you being able to remember them. If so, I think I’d remember you.”</p><p>“Does this mean I’m from your court?”</p><p>“I certainly would hope so if you’d seen the wings. He doesn’t show those to just anyone.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Boy, was she inquisitive now that she’d managed to calm down.</p><p>“Rhys … He’s only part Illyrian, but that means he has the gift of hiding his wings. It’s something he’s done for centuries to try to fit in more with the other High Fae. Lucky bastard.”</p><p>“You wish you could hide your own?”</p><p>Azriel sighed, tilting his face so she’d have trouble reading him in this low light. “My people are cruel and backwards. My brother, before he …” He shook his head. “I think he was the only thing still connecting me to them. For I frequently wish I could wake up one day another person. The hiding of the wings … it would help me disassociate from them more thoroughly.”</p><p>“I think they’re beautiful,” she murmured, lifting a finger to touch one before he caught at her delicate wrist.</p><p>“They’re … sensitive,” he admitted, not willing to give her the full confession of what having them stroked would make them do, would make him feel. “It’s considered bad form to touch another’s wings in Illyrian culture.”</p><p>She shrank from him, and he found himself regretting his word choice, as he had attempted to skirt around the particulars. “Not that you had any way of knowing that,” he added hastily. “Just … I’d appreciate it if you let them be in the future.” For his own damn sanity’s sake.</p><p>She uttered an embarrassed groan and hid her face from him.</p><p>“Hey. There’s no need to feel bad about it. Get some sleep.” He moved to settle her back on her mattress, but she continued to stay curled in her shell of embarrassment.</p><p>He should have left her there. He’d done enough to assuage her guilt at having attempted to touch him in a way which wouldn’t be wholly unpleasant for him, but …</p><p>Azriel couldn’t force himself onto the floor, curling up a respectable distance behind her fetal form and using one mangled hand to rub soothing circles into her back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Shit. Shit, shit, shit.</p><p>The mattress softly groaned beneath Azriel as he opened his eyes far too late in the morning and beheld Cassia staring at him.</p><p>He vaguely remembered rubbing the circles into her skin until … oblivion. When he had broken his own rules and ended up here, in her bed. And there wasn’t even any hiding that fact because he’d slept in too late to slip out unnoticed.</p><p>He could feel his cheeks heating, even as he scooted to the edge in what could only be described as a hurry and popped up and into the kitchen.</p><p>“Did I do something wrong?” Cassia’s voice rang out from the other side of the room.</p><p>“What do you mean?” <i>He</i> had done something wrong, but he couldn’t admit that to her.</p><p>“You practically ran from me as if I’d burned you,” she accused him.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to fall asleep there,” Azriel admitted. “I’m sorry for invading your personal space.”</p><p>“You do realize that this bed is big enough that we didn’t even need to touch, right? You did nothing untoward.”</p><p>Except to his own conscience. He couldn’t get in deep with her. Not yet. Maybe not ever.</p><p>“It is still yours, and I have my own sleeping arrangements. It won’t happen again.”</p><p>Cassia frowned, but quickly turned her face from him to stare out the window. “I want to walk today,” she declared.</p><p>“B-but …” Azriel stuttered, unsure of how to form the word <i>impossible </i>aloud.</p><p>“Help me walk.” She turned back to him, chocolate eyes hardened with determination.</p><p>Azriel sighed, having learned in recent weeks what that glint in her eye signified. There would be no yielding on her part. This female in front of him was one of the most stubborn he’d ever met, and that was saying something considering the company he kept.</p><p>He turned the idea over and over in his head. Her muscles on their own were not strong enough to attempt walking unaided, but … With the proper supports, perhaps they could work on giving her this piece of her autonomy back. The problem was that all the solutions he knew of for rehabilitating injured warriors relied on using their arm strength to brace themselves and take the weight off the legs, and she was lacking that in spades as well.</p><p>“You’re thinking about it,” Cassia murmured, not so much a question as a statement, as if she were reading his mind. “I know that the two of us together can pull it off.” She smiled weakly, a bit of that chocolate melting in her gaze as she took him in.</p><p>“And how are you so certain of this fact?” Azriel mused at her, his frustration growing to curiosity at the certainty in her words.</p><p>“I dreamt about it.” Simple as that, except …</p><p>“Dreams are only just that. A figment of imagination.”</p><p>“But it will work! I’ve seen it more than once, but last night. Last night it was so vivid, so clear. I’m absolutely sure of it. If you help support my weight, then I can practice using my legs.”</p><p>“Yes, but …”</p><p>“These things just come true!” Cassia insisted, causing Azriel to pause.</p><p>“Like what, exactly?”</p><p>Her eyes lit up at the challenge. “Well, remember yesterday, when you spilled tea all over your tunic, and I laughed? I just … remember seeing that somewhere in a dream. And last week, when I finally managed to sit up on my own? I somehow just <i>knew </i>that it was going to happen the night before. That’s why I worked so hard on it. And when you came to wake me up? I’d seen that thousands of times in my dreams.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, as if she’d revealed too much.</p><p>Azriel assessed her, a wolf taking in his prey at the statement. She did seem to have quite the predilection for seemingly knowing random things. But to think that they all came to her in dreams, and she was predicting the future was … a very bold assumption to make about someone whom he knew so little about.</p><p>“Look, I know it might make me sound like I’m mad, but …”</p><p>“I believe you,” he admitted, a hand reaching up to rub at his temple at the implications he was giving in to. “I believe you,” he repeated, softer. “I just don’t know how to process the fact that you possess a power so rare yet nobody has torn apart the world looking for you.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“What you’re describing best fits what we know of seers. Those who can see many possible futures, those who can scry the present, those who can clearly discern the past. But they are incredibly rare—and incredibly coveted. Ordinarily, you’ll find them seated at the right hand of their sovereigns, on a tight leash, if what I’ve read is to be believed.</p><p>“And you believe that I’m one of these … seers?” Her face scrunched up in an adorable way which caused Azriel’s heart to skip a beat.</p><p>“If what you say is correct. If these … dreams of yours hold the veracity which you claim they do, then it’s likely.”</p><p>“We could always test them out.” She raised an eyebrow at him, and he knew what she was suggesting. He had to help her walk today. To prove to her whether or not that vision she’d seen of them would come to fruition. There was no backing out of it now.</p><p>“If I agree to this—though I think it’s far too early—and <i>if</i> it works, then you need to agree to do something for me.”</p><p>She didn’t flinch as she shot back, “And what would that be?”</p><p>“I mentioned before that seers are rumored to be able to discern the past. If this … If this works, and you do in fact appear to have these powers, you’re going to need to work at this. In addition to your physical rehabilitation every day. To try to regain whatever past you’ve lost, to fill in the blanks.”</p><p>She took a moment to think about it, and Azriel was on a knife’s edge as he wondered what her hesitation could signify before she held out her hand to him—an old-fashioned human tradition—and said, “You have a deal.”</p><hr/><p>Much to Cassia’s smug satisfaction, her time spent in Azriel’s arms, as he supported enough of her weight for her to begin moving her legs again, went decently well—at least as well as could be expected.</p><p>As awkward as the positioning may have seemed, with his corded arms wrapped around her midsection, bearing the majority of her weight, as she shakily put one foot in front of the other, walking them around the small trail encircling the cabin, she managed.</p><p>And boy did it feel good to have an excuse to be so tangled up in him. When she’d awoken this morning, the thrill of finding Azriel in her bed had lit a fire within her. Though it was dampened by the distance between them and his … reaction to discovering where he’d slept, she’d nevertheless revelled in the knowledge that he’d found the space behind her so comfortable that he’d passed out there.</p><p>It had to beat sleeping on the floor so maybe she could work up to convincing him. She wasn’t quite sure what this thrill was that went through her when they touched. To be fair, he was the only man she knew in this version of her life, but she couldn’t help but be drawn to his demeanor. He was quiet, thoughtful. She knew that every word which came out of his mouth had purpose, but she was glad that he trusted her with them.</p><p>What she wasn’t looking forward to was what happened as soon as he deemed their physical training over. Sure, she desperately wanted to know who she was, but she feared what she might find in her past. Perhaps certain memories—certain events—were better left in the dark. What if finding out how she got here reopened some wounds so visceral she didn’t know how to cope with them.</p><p>Azriel set her lightly on the bed after allowing her to relieve herself—he now merely averted his gaze most of the time for this act, though he still called on Nuala to help bathe her as needed. She sank into the plushness of the pillows he constantly fluffed up for her, wondering if she feigned exhaustion if he’d let her get out of this. But, no … He’d merely have her try again at the next available opportunity, even if that meant putting off her walking again. Best to just get it over with.</p><p>“Well, how exactly do I do this?” she questioned, hoping he had more of an idea.</p><p>“You’re the seer. I’ll be damned if I know,” Azriel grinned.</p><p>“You’re not helping.” </p><p>She shot him a glare and Azriel merely chuckled before adding, “Your power exists within your mind. Try to visualize it. Try to manifest it.” A teacup floated across the room on a cobalt breeze. “It’s not quite the same as what I do with my Siphons.” He pointed to the sapphires perched atop the backs of his hands. “But that’s how I command them. Same with the shadows.”</p><p>“But <i>what </i>am I supposed to be visualizing? I don’t know what I’m looking for. I don’t know anything but these four walls.”</p><p>“Then perhaps clearing your mind would be more helpful. We could focus on some meditation. You said many of these felt like dreams so maybe we can figure out how to let you enter that trance-like state another way.”</p><p>“Meditation ... You mean like trying not to think?” It sounded incredibly hard.</p><p>“It’s all about focusing on yourself. Let’s start with some breathing. Ten breaths in and out. Try to focus solely on the simple act.”</p><p>She fought not to roll her eyes at his suggestion that breathing was something she would need to focus on, yet three breaths in, she found her mind straying. Perhaps it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.</p><p>It took Cassia many sets of ten before she finally felt a sense of peace settle over her and realized that she’d made it the full ten breaths without getting distracted.</p><p>Azriel seemed to notice as well. “Good,” he murmured. Now harness that. Do another set of ten. And then another.”</p><p>“That’s it?”</p><p>“Do you have any better ideas?”</p><p>“No,” she huffed, a strand of shoulder-length hair which had fallen in her face blowing with her breath.</p><p>Azriel reached up a hand to smooth it back behind her ear. Cassia’s breath hitched in her throat, and she looked up only to have Azriel pull his hand away. “You work on your breathing for a bit. Clear your mind. I’ll keep time for you.”</p><p>“How long?”</p><p>“An hour,” he smirked, rising from the mattress and moving to the dining table.</p><p>“An <i>hour</i>?”</p><p>“How else do you expect to master this? And do you have anything better to do?” The knowing look pasted on his face made her flash him a vulgar gesture. His smirk widened into a grin. “It seems not. I’ll leave you to it.”</p><p>Cassia fastened her eyes closed and lay back on her pillows, narrowing her focus. One breath in. One breath out. It had seemed so simple earlier, yet now … Now it rankled her, as if she could focus on anything other than the light brush of his callouses she’d felt on her ear.</p>
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